


The Hurt and the Healing

by Druundev



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Co-Written, Co-Written with Darkrogue21, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Honestly so sweet you will get Diabetes., Loss of Virginity, Shamelessly writes fanfiction about OC, Vampire Sex ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 19:10:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12238953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Druundev/pseuds/Druundev
Summary: Oneshots written about the relationship between Skyrim mod followers "Clara Goldspirit" and the unreleased "Marcelon Ashcroft".For anyone on the outside, Marcy and Clara would seem like the last people you would put together. The naive noble daughter and the lone vampire seem like complete opposites.But to each other, their differences are what creates an inescapable chemistry. After all, they say opposites attract.





	The Hurt and the Healing

**Author's Note:**

> A cold winter's night is the perfect time for a wedding feast, yet two guests aren't as keen to celebrate with the stuffy nobility, and find themselves enjoying each other's company instead for a 'quiet' evening.

The air was warm in the hall of the palace, a welcoming contrast to the icy cold of Windhelm. The trio that was Ji'Dari, Marcy and Clara entered in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the Wedding Feast. The room was huge and every wall was lined with thick banners and curtains, and tables stood against the walls to make way for a clear floor, stacked high with food and drink, colours and scents from all corners of Nirn swirled around the air. Ji’Dari slipped off her cloak and drank in the warmth that chased the chill from her bones, though the food caught her eyes first and she felt it calling her, her stomach especially.  
“I think it’s time for me to make myself at home! You two amuse yourselves, I won’t be gone long, but try to keep a seat for me, alright?” she patted Marcy’s arm before she turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd of party guests.

Clara removed her outerwear and took in her surroundings, there had to be at least a hundred people packed into the grand hall, having come from far and wide on the request of the new High King and Queen of Skyrim. The Palace was warm and smelled of cinnamon and other spices, music drifted overhead from the bards playing at the back of the room and the sound of people conversing filled the hall with a pleasant atmosphere. So many people, so many conversations, it was so...lively.

Ulfric Stormcloak and Aurora Whitewater made a rather...peculiar pair, Clara thought.  
The High King always looked...Serious? Bored? Annoyed? She couldn’t really tell with that man, but the way he every now and then would lean over to his Queen and whispered something into her ear that would make her smile smugly told her that the newly weds would most likely be a content pair for all the years to come.  
Clara was happy Aurora's husband seemed to treat her well, Clara knew she would have married a Daedric prince if it meant it would secure Skyrim's peace and prosperity, she herself would have given her life and happiness for Skyrim.

Marcy stood next to Clara and looked around the room with her. All the memories of parties past were suddenly fresh in his mind, the sounds, the music, even the smells, it all felt familiar, though this time he was actually allowed to enjoy himself and not worry about his actions against his family. It was strange, he was no stranger to social gatherings but this was one of the first times he had been invited out to socialise...with people, after centuries of being alone, it was more than a little jarring to his senses. He slipped off his jacket, it was also a rare feeling where he felt dressed for the occasion in his black surcoat lined with gold, it had been far too long.

He heard her sigh and turned his attention towards her. She was standing beside him, lost in the wonder of it all, it was as if she didn’t know where to go next. He leant in close,  
“So, I heard our dear Queen is serving some delightful spiced wine she had imported from Hammerfell, care to help me secure it from people who don’t care to appreciate it?” He asked in a playful tone, offering her his hand. Clara took it and smiled brightly,  
“I’d love to.”

He pulled her through the crowd towards the banquet table, being careful to duck and dive to avoid the servants carrying trays of drinks and food. He grabbed the bottles furthest at the back, no doubt the better aged ones, and did his best to slip them under the cover of his jacket, as Clara made her way down the other side and secured the glasses, and a few select snacks for later.

Marcy turned to her with a questioning look when she came back to him, casting his hand out to motion to the room  
“I imagine we should find a place to sit, but it seems unlikely. This place is packed! Really, you’d think the rulers of this country had less friends considering all the drama after the war.” He smiled to Clara who laughed softly,  
“Come now Marcy, I think the two of us know better than anyone else that almost everyone in this room actually hates each other...” Clara had intended to jest but her joy died out when she spoke, they both fell into silence as they both remembered their childhood spent at these kind of events. He smiled and nudged her  
“Only one of us can pull off the brooding look, my dear. It doesn’t suit your pretty face.”

Clara sighed and locked her arm with his, pulling him towards a side corridor up the stairs,  
“Lets get out of here.” he followed her eagerly, chancing a glance back at the room  
“So soon? I thought you lived for these kinds of occasions?”  
“I’d rather enjoy my evening in peace then exchange pleasantries about the weather.”  
“When you put it that way, I suppose small talk should really be outlawed.” Marcy laughed as they went up the stairs.

Aurora was sure she had seen her, she would recognize that ridiculous red cape everywhere, but she had lost her in the crowd shortly after. 

She had to smile sadly when thinking of Clara, their friendship had meant everything to her in the years she spent in Exile, but to think that they had to meet again under such circumstances, that was truly a shame.  
She felt for the young Breton, politics and its intrigues where often lost on Clara, and Aurora couldn’t help but to sympathize dearly with her, their families had met a very similar fate after all.

Still, she was happy she had made it to the party, there where few people on the guest list Aurora had actually looked forward to seeing. She made a mental note to search for Clara later and ask her about how things had turned out after she had contacted Andre.

Ji’Dari had filled her plate high and carved out a small section of the table for herself. She loved her friends, but even she knew deep down that it was a rare instance when they had time alone together, with the house as full as it was and Marcy’s ever-crippling ability to hide his emotions when others were around. She noticed them disappear upstairs and smiled, she wouldn’t wait for them this time, for now she was happy to revel in the celebrations at the Queen’s leisure and make her own way back to the inn to sleep.

They found a nearby bedroom unlocked and slipped inside, filling the table with their spoils as Marcy sparked the candle alight with a flick of fire magic. He looked around, the room was grand for a bedroom, with deep coloured rugs, a nearby fireplace and an extravagant four poster bed with soft white drapes and sheets.  
Clara arranged their little dinner as Marcy poured them both a healthy glass of the delicious smelling wine, he handed her one glass with a smile and she thanked him when she took it from him.  
Marcy sat down in the comfortable chair as Clara walked around the room, she noticed a delicate looking glass door that led to a massive balcony outside, the handle was tricky but with patience and a little burst of strength she didn’t know she had, it creaked open. She let the icy air of Windhelm rush over her, it was refreshing and crisp.  
She felt Marcy's eyes follow her every movement like she was something to be studied, something to figure out. She asked him quietly if the cold bothered him but he just waved a hand with a content smile,  
“No not at all, don’t worry.”

As she turned around to look at him and realized that they were alone in a beautiful bedroom, drinking wine and would most likely be completely undisturbed for the next couple of hours, it made her feel unsure if the heat she felt rise to her face only came from the cold. Her hands gripped the goblet tighter and she took a sip, suddenly making sure she was looking everywhere except Marcy.  
A smirk spread across his face, like he had come to the same realization she had, or maybe he had realized that she had realized it?  
Marcy was strange to her, at times she felt like he was the hunter and she the prey, others she felt he was the hurt and she the healing. Mostly she just felt like they were a natural symbiosis, he felt like adventure and she felt like home.

He noticed his gaze lingering on her perhaps slightly too long and dropped his eyes back to his goblet as he took a drink. He motioned to the chair opposite him and she took a seat,  
“Just listen to that, peace and quiet.” He mused with a content sigh, “I’m glad you talked me into this, though you hardly had to try very hard.” She smiled and reached for a handful of fruit, making to offer him some and then paused when he raised an eyebrow. She shook her head.  
“Ah, silly me. I always forget...” she spoke softly, he chuckled  
“I think out of all of us, you’re the only one who ever does.”  
“But the entire banquet smelled delicious! Do you ever miss being able to eat?”  
“Sometimes.” He swirled the last of his drink and topped the goblet up “There are a lot of things I tend to find myself missing when I find myself in one of my particularly depressing moods.”  
“Is that often?”  
“Not as often as it used to be, no.” He leant back in his chair and crossed his legs, resting the goblet on his knee. His body language even surprised himself, it was a party after all, and he was far too used to carrying himself as regimented and orderly, but with her it was different, almost casual, almost...fun? She always had that effect on him, even when the world felt as if it was closing down on him, she was there to make him see that things were never as bad as he thought, he never understood how she did it, how she could see things so clearly when he couldn’t. A bright little ray of sunshine to chase away the dark.

“I confess I was surprised to receive an invitation to this little soiree. I don’t expect many people would consider a vampire on their guest list.”  
She chuckled.  
“I think a vampire is actually a far better addition to the guest list, if you consider types attending the parties in Evermore!” her quip made him choke on his wine with a snort and he wiped his mouth,  
“Don’t do that when I’m drinking!”  
“But it’s true!”  
“It really is, isn’t it? I can’t tell you how much I detested those parties, always being paraded around at my father’s heels like a trophy.”  
“You think you had it bad? What about me?! The golden daughter who was never even allowed to look at any male company without having them fill out an arm’s length of paperwork so they could be in the same room!” she held her head in her hand “By the Divines, that was so embarrassing...”  
“My dear, if you want embarrassing, I had to parrot back whatever I had learnt in the court on the same evening to my father’s associates. Now that is embarrassing, especially if one young Ashcroft can’t remember what he learnt because he was busy sleeping...”  
“You’re not supposed to sleep!”  
“I know that! But you can hardly blame me, it was incredibly boring.” he sat up to top up her wine and held his hand over the candle, making the flame burn brighter when he noticed it flicker and fade with the breeze.  
“Do you ever think of going back home again?” she asked, he stroked his chin in thought  
“Sometimes I do, though I’ve been in Skyrim for so long it feels like home to me now. Honestly, I would like to go back eventually, to see how things have changed, if nothing else.” he sighed, a small solemn edge to his words “Though after so long, I imagine everything I used to know has changed so much I probably wouldn’t recognise it.”  
“I don’t think it’s changed as much as you think.”  
“Are you sure? Three centuries is a long time.”  
“There’s still the statue in the square...what was it called? The Standing...something...”  
“The Standing Knight?” he chuckled “That old thing is still there?”  
“Still standing his solitary guard over the marketplace, yes! I had a perfect view of it from my room window. He has been for years, though he looks a little less shiny now!” he felt a rush of nostalgia wash over him at her words, he couldn’t describe how comforting it was to have another Breton around, let alone one from his homeland or one who was a noble’s child. He felt as if Clara actually understood he things he talked about, landmarks, customs, music...she recognised a great deal of it, and if she didn’t, she would listen to him eagerly when he explained it to her, asking questions, engaging in his stories and memories. He revelled in it, though it was different compared to when he regaled the tales to the other companions, for some reason it was always her he wanted to tell first when he remembered a story, or found a memory to share. The music drifted into the room from the open balcony doors and he shrugged his shoulders, leaning on his arms on the table  
“I suppose there are just elements of this country that I miss from back home, mainly the lack of snow.” he quipped with a smirk and looked to her “What about you, my dear? Would you ever go back?”  
“Well...it would be nice to go home again, I do tend to get homesick sometimes, you know?” he nodded along to her words, he knew the feeling all too well  
“As do I.”  
“I miss the flowers, the smell of the market, the sounds of the horses...Skyrim is beautiful, but it still feels as if something is missing.” he noticed her drift off into her reminiscing and she shook her head, taking a drink “But only to visit. It’s as you say, Skyrim is my home now. I have my family here, remember?” he noted her emphasis on the last comment and lowered his head on the table, he felt his eyes on her and his stomach knotted in embarrassment.  
“Gods preserve me...You’re really not going to let me live that one down, are you? I still can’t believe I said that.”  
“I’m glad you did. After all, you were right, weren’t you?” he looked up, their gaze held for longer than either of them expected  
“My dear, I’m always right. I thought you would have realised that by now.”  
“Oh of course, my mistake, Master Ashcroft. I should have known!” she teased and he grinned like a Cheshire cat.  
“I know you’re joking but with the words cradled in your delicate voice, I wouldn’t mind you calling me that more often...” they fell back into silence and he watched her delicately dab her mouth with her napkin, before grabbing more food, he tapped his fingers on the goblet in thought “So, hypothetically...If I were to chance a trip back to Evermore...would you come with me?” he hesitated on his words, unsure of if he was being too forward. Yet her eyes lit up and she nodded eagerly, the loose curls beside her ear bouncing as she moved  
“Of course I would! I’d love to see the city again, properly this time.” he noted the hint in her voice and leaned over to top up her drink  
“No more cages, Clara, I promise I’ll take you sightseeing. If any of my old haunts are still standing, that is, though I daresay we can still find a few.”

Time slowly ticked by, the candle had burned down to the stub and they had finished the two bottles long ago, before he slipped away and procured more. Clara had finished her makeshift meal and they found themselves out on the balcony, it was warm inside, a sharp contrast to when they stepped out and he offered her his jacket as they leant on the stonework. Both of them were gazing at the stars and listening to the music before he spoke,  
“You know, I think this may have been the first private moment we’ve had to ourselves since...well, the incident with your brother.” she went quiet, subdued as she held his jacket tighter over her shoulders. He sighed “If you don’t wish to discuss it, then you have every right to tell me off. But now that we have a moment, I feel as if I should apologise for before...”  
“Marcy, you don’t have to-”  
“I think I do, this time at least. I am sorry for losing my temper, it was unworthy of me and unfair to you.” His words weren’t harsh or cold this time, they were gentle and genuine. This may have been the first time she had ever heard him apologise. She moved closer, smiling warmly and he felt his heart skip.  
“Don’t be silly! There’s nothing to apologise for.”  
He chuckled and shook his head  
“Clara, you’re far too forgiving to an old fool like myself.”  
“Oh come now, you’re not that old.” She giggled and he sipped his wine  
“You would be the first to say so...” he gazed at her over the rim of the goblet and gave her a sly wink “But, coming from you? I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.” he set the cup down again and looked to her “But honestly, I’m more concerned with you.”  
“Me?”  
“Ever since we came back you’ve been busying yourself, rushing here and there, making sure everyone else is looked after-” she interrupted him with a hand on his arm and flashed him a smile  
“Don’t worry so much about me, Marcy! I told you, I’m fine, really!” no doubt it was meant to reassure him, but her eyes told him different, vastly different. He placed his hand on hers  
“Clara...you may think you can fool our friends with that act, but it doesn’t fool me.” the smile faded when his tone turned serious. He was concerned, yes, but perhaps he was speaking slightly harder than she expected him to, “You and I were raised to believe our family was all we had, blood and honour above all else, yes? Now you’re the last surviving member of your line and your so-called brother is lying in cold blood. You can’t tell me that doesn’t bother you, even slightly?” she looked down as his words sank in, a small voice drifting from her lips, remorseful.  
“I wish it could have gone differently...I really do.”  
He nodded solemnly, remembering saying the same words to himself over his family, over Catherine...He squeezed her hand.  
“Now where have I heard that one before?”  
“When I saw him, I saw my brother, the boy who helped pick me up when I skinned my knees, the one I’d run to when I drew a pretty picture, but...when he spoke...when he told me what he’d done...” she shook her head, feeling the words catch in her throat again and she gulped down a mouthful of wine to ease it, “The man I killed wasn’t my brother, no matter how hard I wished it was. The real Andre died a long time ago, I just didn’t realise how far he’d fallen. Maybe...maybe if I’d have known, I could have...”  
“You can’t blame yourself for it. He was the one who sent you away, you couldn’t have known.”  
“He sent me away, only to bring me back and keep me caged for his sick ideal of a legacy...” she felt a shiver down her spine “Gods only knows what he would have done if I didn’t realise that sooner.”  
“You know I would never have let him take you away.” he caught himself when he heard the words hanging in the air and cleared his throat, “I mean...I was ready to rip him apart then and there. Did you really think I’d let him leave with you?” he noticed her cheeks flush red and held his hand out, motioning to her and she cupped her hand over his, he summoned a small sphere of light. It was like a wisp, but glowed orange like fire, yet it didn’t burn her fingers. It was a curious thing, it warmed her hands as she held it and it produced enough light to illuminate them both in the darkness, taking the edge off his red eyes.  
“Clara...you mean the absolute world to me, as soon as you let go of my hand, I felt my entire world slipping away and I couldn’t stand it.” he chuckled weakly and held his hand over the orb, though he didn’t feel the heat himself, it at least made his cold skin warm. He cradled her face, her skin was soft against his touch “In that moment, I realized what was important and knew I needed to tell you. I can’t imagine living another second in this world without you. I want you, I need you and...I love you.” the words rang in his ears, it had been far too long since he’d said the words, let alone feel a spark in his heart again. He pulled her closer and kissed her softly, pulling back to gaze into her eyes and gently whisper “And if you say you don’t feel the same, I’m going to feel very, very stupid...”  
Marcy waited for a minute, but no sound came from Clara, suddenly he saw the tears well up in her eyes and felt her hands grip into him as she let out what could only be described as the mournful cry of something broken, something that longed to be fixed.  
Between her cries, he could make out a sniffling “I love you too.” as he smiled and pulled her close into a warm embrace and rested his head on hers, he felt how her tears made his shirt damp and how she held onto him like letting go would mean the end of the world.  
As he broke the embrace to look down at the sobbing blonde who was wiping tears from her eyes and muttering soft 'I love yous', an image of a little girl in an extravagant dress that seemed all too heavy to be carried by her tiny body, weeping alone in her room, looking through a massive window that showed her the entire city.  
But only showed.  
He was taken aback when she cried, then it slowly dawned on him. Clara was starved for love, he realised, her disgusting excuse of a brother truly had been the only one to show her any true affection, and she had clung to it, trusted it.  
And that love had betrayed her.  
He smoothed her tears away with his thumb, kissing her forehead and held her close again, he swore to himself that from this day on, he would spend his days making her feel loved and protected. After everything she’d gone through, it was the least she deserved. He found the entire situation unusual, they were from two different times, but both broken in their own ways, the pieces being used to help each other with their own shortcomings to make a functioning couple, though they were both hardly what one would call normal.  
He felt her stop shaking and looked down, stroking her hair as he always found himself doing absent-mindedly,  
“Clara? Are you-” she cut him off when she pushed herself up on her feet to kiss him, her fingers still wrapped around the front of his shirt. He always forgot how small she actually was, standing on her tip-toes so she could reach his lips for a kiss, he found it endearing, almost cute, but he knew he’d never utter the words out loud. He followed her when she pulled him closer, sliding a hand on her hip and his fingers strayed across to her backside, but the sensation made her jump and she stumbled backwards off her feet. She fell into the balcony and knocked the goblet off the ledge, sending it sailing down to the floor below, where they heard a small clunk, followed by the annoyed grumble of a poor wedding guest who had been accidentally soaked by the contents  
“What in Oblivion?!” came the shout. She leant over the edge to look and giggled into her hands, she went to shout an apology down but Marcy grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth, sniggering and shushing her, it was hard to contain their laughter when the man shouted again, cursing the mystery attacker with “a damn good thrashing”.  
“Now you’ve gone and done it, this is the last time I let you drink!” Marcy whispered, Clara laughed and moved his hand away, running her fingers delicately over his cheek and jaw, his face was still lingering dangerously close to hers,  
“Oh, I’m not that drunk! I feel absolutely fine...maybe even a little fabulous!”  
“My dear, I’d say you’re far more than just a little fabulous...” he felt his attention drift away at her touch, whether it was the wine, or her perfume he couldn’t tell, but his mind was definitely hazy. This evening was so perfect, he didn’t want it to end just yet.  
“Oh, shush you...” the sound of her giggling brought his focus back.  
They could still hear the music from downstairs and she was swaying her hips to the melody, bringing him along with her, she let out a content sigh  
“Do you want to dance?” she asked, but a cheeky smirk graced his lips  
“As much fun as dancing would be...I have a far better idea...” he replied darkly as he took her hand and led her back inside.

He sat her down on the bed and when Clara realised his intent her eyes widened, suddenly feeling much more insecure and vulnerable, she held onto Marcy’s sleeve and her mouth stood open as she with an excited curiosity awaited his next movements.  
He tenderly brushed his coat of her shoulders and ran his hands over the blue velvet of her dress.  
Clara took in a sharp breath at the sensation of his hands on her body.  
She was sure her skin was already flushed with blush, her breathing was laboured and the air felt heavy. She felt too nervous to look him directly in the eyes so she moved his hands away from her hip and turned over.  
He was worried he might have crossed a line when he felt her pull away, but then he saw her remove the pin from the braided bun in her hair, letting the long and soft strands cascade down over her shoulders like water. She brushed it back over her shoulder and looked over to him modestly.  
Her back was to him now, and he was aware he was biting his lip a little too hard when he put his hands up to her dress collar, she had shivered and shook just from him putting his hands on her neck, and as he slowly pulled the strings free, he couldn’t hear anything but his own and her breathing, filling the room with a soft melody of affection.  
Marcy removed his surcoat and let it drop near the corner of the bed, not really caring about potentially creasing the material. All that mattered was Clara and him, in this moment.  
He worked on the buttons on her back, and with every one of the golden clasps he opened, more of her silky alabaster skin was revealed to him. Underneath her dress rested a form of soft pink brallette with frilly bows.  
Marcy swallowed hard, he knew this was what he wanted, and he was sure she did too, yet a part of him felt anxious. She was so beautiful, but even he had to admit he was long out of practice with this sort of thing...how did the dance go again? He gestured for Clara, who had been eyeing him with an unsure look, to take his hand.  
As she did so he pulled her up from the bed and into a kiss. He moaned into it as he slipped his hands underneath the dress and let it fall to the floor.  
He let his hands explore the cascade of naked skin that was exposed to him now, feeling every dip and curve along her body.  
He broke their kiss and embrace only to pull off his own shirt, Clara sat down on the bed and watched him curiously, she smiled and giggled when he struggled with pulling of his shoes. The transition wasn’t as smooth and romantic as he had envisioned in his head, yet he found himself sniggering along with her. He could deal with his pride taking a hit tonight, it wouldn’t be for long. Their laughter faded out when he untied his trousers and suddenly he was wearing nothing but pure white cotton undergarments and Clara realised she had never been alone with someone in such a revealing state of undress. It was thrilling and new and she felt strangely comfortable with the idea that tonight, all her first times would happen with Marcy. Something inside her told her that even if they wouldn’t be together forever, she would cherish all her memories with him. Clara smiled a bright honest smile at that thought.  
“You know, normally when I drop my pants women don’t just smile at me like that, there tends to be a rather more ravishing look in their eyes.” he jested, his joke lightening the atmosphere a bit more.  
She sank back into the sheets as he closed in on her. Her skin was warm, inviting to his touch when he buried himself into her neck and kissed her, surrounded by her hair and he inhaled her scent. He loved it when she wore it down, the smell reminded him of home. She felt his hand settle on her hip, slowly drifting down to caress her thigh, he felt her move again, almost shying away from his touch, and pulled his hand back.  
He picked his head up to look at her, she was gazing at him longingly but her smile was sheepish, almost nervous.  
“You will let me know if I’m doing anything untoward, yes?” he whispered in the dark with a smile, “I want to make sure you’re comfortable...” he sensed her heart quicken its pace when he spoke. He noticed it always did when she was around him, though he had learnt to tune out the endless sound with years of experience, hers was the only one he listened for, the only one he truly recognised in the sea of other people.  
“No, it’s... It’s fine.” she stammered, he chuckled.  
“Fine, she says... You could have picked a better word, that’s not exactly instilling me with confidence...”  
“What about you? Aren't...aren't you nervous? Even just a little?”  
“Absolutely. You think I’m not?”  
“Well...I mean, you seem far more relaxed...” she rested her hand on his chest “Your heart isn’t even beating...” he chuckled at her innocence  
“My dear, if my heart did beat, I can assure you, it would be hammering just as hard as yours right now. As it stands, I am technically dead, remember?” she was distracted by the tips of his fangs as he spoke, yet just hearing his voice made her less tense, if only slightly  
“Wait...does that mean this counts as necrophilia?”  
“Sex is sex, do we really have to muddy the waters? At least I’m far more...animated than a corpse.” he replied, his voice quiet as he planted kisses down her chest and stomach. Goosebumps trailed up her skin.  
“But...that means you truly don’t feel anything at all?”  
“Oh, I can feel a great many things.” he replied with a dark, seductive edge to his tone “If you’ll only let me, I can show you...”  
She giggled at his teasing and rested her hand on his wrist, slowly moving him back to where he was before, and brushed her fingers against his skin in reassurance. He smirked and moved to her neck again, his favoured spot, she must have thought, though he knew old habits died hard. He peppered her skin with kisses, gracing a path from underneath her ear and the back of her throat, before going back to her lips and down to her throat again, he softly let his tongue glide over her body down to her breast, caressing them softly. Clara was seeing stars, her head was swimming.  
She didn’t know what to focus on: how good his hands felt on her, how she felt so caressed by his hot mouth leaving kisses and licks all over her skin, or how desperately she wanted to do something for him, she wanted him to feel just as good as she did.  
But Marcy had the lead, and as she watched him pull on the knots of her bralette to expose her breasts fully, she hazily figured she could always return the favour another time.  
She had to sit up and help him with the top, and when it finally fell to the floor she felt... strangely comfortable, but yet she wanted to hide. She shifted a bit under his stare, lightly covering herself with both her hair and her hands.  
Marcy smiled at her, somehow comforting but also enticing. With a playful laugh he put his hands over her wrist and slightly pulled her arms away to uncover her nakedness. Her body language reminded him of other encounters, why were women always conscious about their appearance when they were in such an intimate setting? He’d never understand it.  
“No need to hide in here, Clara, the lights are off, remember?” he said in a soothing tone and kissed her cheeks as one of his hands moved from her arms to caress her now exposed breasts.  
Clara let out the tiniest of moans, though it was more of a whisper of breath.  
“I’d take comfort in that, if it wasn’t for the fact that I know that people with Sanguinare Vampirism can see in the dar-” her complaint was interrupted when a rush of pleasure trailed across her skin as he brushed his lips lower across her collarbone, moving up her neck and kissing her again. He gripped her hips and set her down into the covers, his weight was now completely on top of her and it was the most frightening and at the same time arousing thing Clara had ever felt.  
His mouth was on hers, kissing her with such a passionate intensity that her body naturally shuddered against his. Something seemed to shift in Marcy’s eyes, she could make out their faint glow, and she almost sensed something that seemed like begging, but it was masked with restraint when he gazed at her lips and glanced away.  
He was holding back, she realised.  
Clara didn’t like that thought at all and almost immediately she took action herself, kissing him back with a frantic want that turned sweetly slow as she sucked on his bottom lip and hesitantly rocked her hips against his own. She could feel his body tense, and worried she might have been too bold, but then suddenly felt him grind against her, again and again, repeatedly she felt his hardness and lust flow over her body.  
A moan escaped her lips, it was breathless, quiet, but loud enough that she was sure he heard her and she quickly covered her mouth with her hand, feeling her face burn with the realisation and embarrassment. He chuckled and gently moved her hand away to interlock his fingers with hers.  
“My dear, that’s exactly the sound I want you to make...” he murmured before he pressed his lips against hers, pulling back to utter a reminder of “No hiding...” before he moved down to uncover the last piece of cloth that held together any form of decency her maids had taught her in her adolescence.  
As he sat up and pulled her delicates back over her knees, Clara turned her head away in embarrassment when she saw the damp spot that was clear to see on her once white unmentionables.  
Marcy noted her uncomfortable body language and thought for a second about how he could make her feel more at ease. He found their encounter incredibly arousing, but for a first timer like herself, it was most likely a bit too much to handle. He himself hadn’t slept with another in a long time, let alone a virgin, and if he remembered correctly, she hadn’t exactly been the shyest type anyway. These were strange circumstances for him, it was a rare occasion where he felt like he was on uneven ground. Yet he knew there was a boldness within her, he felt it when she kissed him, he just had to coax it out of her.  
He ran his fingers over her knee and spoke her name to grab her attention. When her bright eyes instantly found his in the dark, he suddenly remembered that his red ones glowing eerily in the darkness might make her uncomfortable, as they had done so before. Or even worse, afraid. That was something he never wanted to see again, those perfect eyes, once flashing vibrant and warm, suddenly gazing at him with such disdain, such fear. She saw him as a person, not a monster and he wanted it to stay that way. A part of him wanted to look away, but the curious and astounded look in her eyes made him want nothing more than to look at her forever. He stalked closer, caressing her cheek and giving her a soft kiss on the lips.  
“You have no idea what you do to me,” His voice came out shaking, almost like a whisper, “How badly I want you...” he let his hand drift over her stomach and tenderly let his hands slide lower, and lower still. She took a sharp gulp of breath and her body shook when his fingers slowly entered her fold.  
Marcy held onto her tightly, kissing her jaw when her head fell back in pleasure, letting her hands hold on to him as he stroked and explored her sensitive womanhood.  
He kept going and when he changed the motion to slow circles he noticed how she would always buck her hips forward and whine with a stifled moan when his fingers brushed above her entrance.  
With a smirk and a kiss to the neck he whispered “There it is...”  
He increased his pace on her sweet spot and Clara moaned and whined beneath him, she released her grip on him and put one of her hands up to his face, moving him to look at her, her other hands gripping the pillow behind her fiercely.  
“...M-Marcelon...” She wanted to tell him something, but he shushed her with another kiss and rocked his own hips against her.  
Clara's forehead pressed against his own when she felt her release rush over her, her hips shook and her legs trembled as she tried desperately to quiet herself but ended up just having her moans echo louder in the room, making them sound so much needier.  
The sounds that escaped her were music to his ears and he found himself wanting more, though when he felt her fingers brush the back of his neck, a wave of ecstasy rolled over him and he was unsure of if he should pace himself or give in.  
His thoughts drifted back when her hand moved from his neck and trailed down his chest, her fingers weaving over the fabric and going underneath to delicately fondle his member. He felt himself pause at her touch, the sensation was unusual...but with her it felt familiar. She noticed his lapse and stopped, uncertain herself on if she was doing it right. She kissed his jaw to get his attention.  
“Marcy? Are you…?” she trailed off when she felt his cheeks curl into a smile as he buried himself up against her, pushing his body so close to hears he could feel her heart rattling against her chest.  
“You can keep going, you know...Stopping like that is just cruel...” he growled in her ear. A giggle escaped her lips and she did as she was told, going down again to follow his movement, and feeling him twitch and shudder when she chanced a harder touch. She stopped again, only to help him discard the last of his garments and waited for him with a quivering breath of anticipation. He ran his tongue along the inner of her thigh.  
Her skin was so warm.  
He felt her legs part and lifted up her hips,easing himself inside her slowly, making sure to take his time. Despretly wanting to burry himself completly inside her but also wanting to remember every second of this moment.  
He moved slowly at first, paranoid over moving too suddenly or too fast for her, but it wasn’t long until when he felt her grip the covers beside them and a shuddering gasp followed soon after, allaying his fears and inviting him to quicken his pace.

He felt the air around him grow warm and heavy, and he suddenly realised she wasn’t the only one making sounds as he gasped against her skin. Her body tensed and her thighs squeezed against his hips, the sign she was getting just as close as he was, and with a newfound bout of confidence, he thrust himself deeper.  
It was only when her back arched under his fingers that he felt an exquisite rush of intensity, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. He opened his mouth and pressed his fangs against her soft skin. His restraint bordered on a knife edge, but she was so enticing, following his lead and moving with him in such a way he never expected. Her voice called to him in the dark, a quiet, breathless “I love you.” and it was enough, he couldn’t fight against it any more and a part of him tired of trying. He sank his fangs deep into her soft neck, losing himself in the moment, in her. Utterly and entirely, he didn’t want anyone else.  
Clara let out a surprised gasp and he felt her hands on his back, but instead of panicking and pushing him away like he anticipated, she gripped his skin firmly as she followed the remaining wave of her own surge of pleasure.  
When the primal haze had cleared from his mind, he noticed the bite mark on her skin and the bloody stain on the once white pillow she was resting on. He licked the remnants away, she tasted sweeter than he expected, like the finest wine he had ever tasted, but he still felt a pang of guilt at losing his control.  
“I’m sorry...” he muttered before he kissed the wound softly, she ran her fingers through his hair  
“Don’t be.”  
“I think I may have gotten carried away...”  
“It was….Exhilarating...” the words slowly tumbled out of her mouth as they tried to form a coherent sentence and she felt his breath against her slick skin.  
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”  
“I...didn’t expect it, but no, you didn’t...” her fingers trailed over his lips and she studied his eyes, giving him a sincere smile, “You never could.”  
He kissed her fingers and slowly untangled himself from her, rolling to the side and sinking back into the pillows. The afterglow was always the better part of sex, he thought, except this time he didn’t have to rush out the door and considering his company, he was thankful for that. He moved his hair back and stretched, listening to her gentle breathing and smirked to himself, perhaps he wasn’t as rusty as he thought.

When she could again form thoughts that weren’t mostly arousal and instinct, she found herself sweaty, lying on her back, contently gazing at the thick velvet canopy of the bed above them. She had expected to feel different, but was happy to find that she felt just like she normally did, just happier and perhaps a bit more like... like she had been let in on a secret?  
She felt warm, very warm, and light as if she was floating. She pulled the covers higher over her bare chest, wanting to regain a bit of modesty, and brushed her sweat matted hair from her eyes.  
“Did... Did this really just happen?” she whispered, mostly to herself but heard a laugh come from beside her.  
“I think it did. But I can always try again if you’re not convinced...” he heard her laugh and motioned for her with an open arm, having her shuffle closer to lie beside him and drape an arm across his chest. He stroked her hair “Well, I don’t know about you, but I daresay this has been the best party I’ve ever been to, for the longest time. Though something tells me your royal friend won’t appreciate it if she finds us in her chambers like this.”  
She sat up quickly at the revelation, a spare hand on the covers to keep her makeshift modesty.  
“By the Gods... These are the Queens-quarters! Aurora could have us both killed, or worse... exiled if she finds out about this! I could never look her in the eyes again.” he rested a hand on her lower back, he couldn’t help himself, her soft and plump skin was far too inviting to him. He could go for seconds already...  
“But living with a sense of danger is part of the fun...”  
“For you maybe! I don’t want to have to explain...this!” she replied in a fluster and she attempted to climb over him to get out of bed “We should go and rejoin the other guests before anyone notices we’re missing...” he stopped her before she escaped, holding her on his hips.  
“With the noises you were making, I’m surprised no one noticed sooner...” he smirked when she blushed again and grabbed the pillow beside him, smacking him in the face to muffle his smug experssion and allow herself to get up. He smoothed his hair and watched her as she scouted the floor to collect her clothes, studying her bare figure and noting every little detail and freckle, at least until she slipped back into her dress.  
He let out a heavy sigh,  
“My dear, you know the greater crime here is that you have to cover that perfect figure of yours with such confining clothes.”  
She shot him a smile over her bare shoulder and clicked her fingers, motioning to his clothes.  
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Master Ashcroft, unless you get dressed.” He rolled his eyes in mock hurt and shuffled to the edge, grabbing his trousers hanging from the corner of the bed  
“As you say, my lady. Consider me told...” 

Clara struggled with tying the back of her dress and looked over to Marcy to ask him for help when she heard him mutter curses, only to see him looking through the sheets in an open shirt and only one shoe.  
“Everything alright?” She wondered  
“I...” he laughed in embarrassment “I can’t find my other sock.”  
She shook through the bedcovers, before crouching down to examine underneath the bed and announced her discovery of a small rolled-up garment, she tossed it to him and went back to examining herself in the dresser mirror.  
She smoothed out her dress and tried her best to pull her hair back up into the bun again but her fingers drifted down over her neck when she adjusted the straps and she felt the puncture marks. She couldn’t help but stare, yet a small smile graced her lips.  
“How am I going to explain this?” she huffed and he gazed at her reflection to address her, though in the mirror it still looked as if she was standing alone.  
“I suppose you could technically call it a love bite.”  
“Very funny.”  
He strolled over, his ego inflated more than usual, he actually felt happy for once. As if the world and all its problems were nothing but a fleeting memory.  
“Perhaps a mark of passion then.” he smirked as he delicately touched them, moving down to help finish tying her dress and planting a small kiss on her cheek “My mark, something that makes you mine...whichever you choose to see it as.” he finished in a whisper, before he pulled back to finish adjusting his collar.  
Clara turned to him and smiled warmly, just feeling happy in the moment.  
As they both rejoined the party, having tried their best at cleaning Aurora's room but ending up bribing a servant to discreetly clean it for them, Clara and Marcy looped their arms together and smiled at each other with knowing looks when they rejoined Ji'Dari, who currently was stuffing her face with small sweet cakes while Aurora was trying to convince the Dragonborn to ally herself with the Stormcloaks.  
As the smiling and giggling pair joined them the Queen and Ji'Dari both exchanged a knowing look.  
The night was still young, and Aurora wondered what more surprises would await them.


End file.
